Vomit! An Old Occurrence.

colored for pedestal and curtain extracted JE Zane kiss scream

‘Famous 4 15 seconds’

One always thinks that they have seen it all. You’ve never really done so until you have taken a trip on the MTA’s trains. Who ever heard of a flat tire on one of the wheels when the trains are obviously not made of rubber.  That is so apparent from that awful noise they make.  Ok, ok, ok!  Let me get to the point and reason for this story.  8:10 in the evening and a quiet train ride to china town. Well as quiet as the trains will allow. I swear that peace in the Middle East had settled in on our car.  No one had a worry and each everyone of us were engrossed in our own ‘raison d-être’. Suddenly a loud scream and a huge parting of the seas as everyone scoured away from the axis of disgust. A young man who apparently was sitting there the whole time sleeping started regurgitating whatever he took in that week.  Oh and he did this while sleeping. His eyes never opened and I swear we had a front row seat to all he ate and drank this week. Suddenly the smell. The stench upstaged my outfit, the little baby’s cute face, those fabulous high heels that girl sported.  Need I say more?  IT FREAKING STANK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. Our performer decided to wipe his face with his hands and smeared more of the oral excrement on his person. This my friends, he did with his eyes closed!  It was as if he decide to go to the bathroom as a somnambulist and returned to bed unaware of anyone’s reaction and disgust. I kept thinking to myself thank god he was not in bed on his back. That might have been fatal. To add injury to insult or insult to injury depending on how you look at it. The smart phones came out and our vomiter became ‘famous for 15 seconds’. I wonder if Warhol would say his ‘famous for 15 minutes’ quote if he lived now in the time of the Internet  where

YouTube, Facebook and whatnot can make you immortal. To a limited crowd of course. I realized that I had not seen it all and there moments awe to come in my life.

My heart is crying!  


My heart screamed today!
I was relieved for a split second today. A moment where I did not think of myself and my issues. It was that split second it took me to make sense of the words I heard. “There was a terrorist attack on the rambla a few minutes ago”. 

Having finally swallowed the words and comprehending them I trembled my normal “trauma” shake from the bottom of my back to the top of head and cried. 

I don’t understand. Why hurt people you don’t know in the name of God? Is God the culprit here? Are we supposed to just forget about the life’s you took from us from one minute to the next. Are you crazy? Selfish? Stupid? Lost? Cruel? Maniacal? Macho? Piggy?self serving? Evil? Delusional? Let me say it again. Stupid? What makes you think that God is in accordance with this shit? How dare you use God? I guess you are making a good point. We shouldn’t have to rely on God as a good thing. If you are anything you claim to be then, God is evil! Should I just give up and consider the fact that this world we live in is made to destroy itself. If you had it the way that you wanted, I’m sure that you would find something else to kill for. This is the thing. You are only into the killing and inciting fear. You have an inferiority complex. Penis issues!! You’ve found the good way to kill I see and unfortunately that is through our most gullible, impressionistic, lost, confused youth are sick. It’s almost like a pedophile. You should be arrested just for that corrupting our youth and stealing their souls. That makes you now three awful things MURDERER, PEDOPHILE and THEIF!  
Now my heart cries for those innocent people whose lives you have stolen including the terrorist themselves. You stole their souls. For all the things I could say to you right now terrorist leader. There is only one thing that keeps coming to mind. Why don’t you just kill yourself next time you feel like hurting someone. Our lives are complicated enough. Your issues should not be ours. Grow up and deal with it. Seek therapy and take care of your penis issues. Barcelona, I am sorry. I cry with you. 

I SEE YOU!

Nina's pic of me looking suspicious

We were friends for many many years. We were inseparable. In retrospect I see that you were using me to make yourself look better. I loved you and then one day you disappeared. You still had my number, your fingers were not suffering from arthritis. You no longer picked up your phone when my number appeared. I dare say you socially climb up my fame and theater to expunge yourself of the stigma of being born a Muslim in a Christian oriented society. After 10 or so many years I run into you in a place which makes it easy for us to run into each other again and again. How. Many times did you look at your fake watch. I want to know why are we like this?  

Silly thoughts

Extracted proud centaur and doves pride '17

Someone came to me to tell me that “Jesus loves me”. I asked for this Jesus’ number since I haven’t seen him on grndr yet

 

Ok. It’s the year of the rooster in the Chinese lunar year. My friend Wolfgang who is an adamant believer in the male member wants it to be corrected “It should be the ‘Year of the Cock!’

 

Who needs a Ferris wheel when you have a Neapolitan taxi driver? 

 

I just found out that the sweet 86 year old woman I met yesterday is a virgen.  Why does that thought preoccupy my mind?  I have given that three letter word far too much power I think.

 My thoughts. I am in the center of Naples and thinking deep thoughts. Why does Vesuvius loom

over the city so?  Is it a reminder of how fragile life is? Are the Italians right in building these amazing beautiful cities and letting them rot?   You can bet someone is getting rich off of this. The Neapolitans complain about the way that tourism has gone off of the roof. Partly due to those assholes isis. Tunisia, Egypt, Lebanon and most of Northern Africa have lost tourism because of their ridiculous show of machismo.  Who suffers?  Muslims.  That money that they used to get from tourism is going right back into isis’ funding. Someone once told me isis is funded in part by the mafia. I thought how absurd. But thinking further. Who knows.  Isis provides drugs and the mafia funding.  If that were true. That would mean the incredible corruption that follows Italy throughout its existence which is somehow intertwined with the mafia brings the money to the corrupt and their accomplices. Who are reaping the benefits of this incredible boost in tourism?   The money is not being invested in the infrastructure of the city. Venice still looks like it is sinking. Rome unfortunately does not look any cleaner so where is that money going?  To Isis.

Every time that pain comes which is every other minute. I remind myself that one day: There will be no need to reminisce, no self loath, no need for you, no excuses for life, no tears, inner or outer, no you, no me, I will be and have no need to go down that terrible road to make myself feel alive. 

 

 

Madou

Jean and Madou with writtne messages

Madou, in my attempts to explain my connection to you I shall try to understand the sadness I feel. Den Haag, Paviloen’sgracht You embraced me and allowed me into your life and a bond started.  A bond filled with curiosity and on my part: love, total admiration, awe. I Thought you were awesome. The more and more I got to know youths more amazing you got.  I visited you in Uccle but honestly campdura was the place to be.  You and your family introduced me to things which were foreign to me like: Walloons{Les Belges Francais}.  Their ability to laugh at themselves and still grow, “Don’t be so serious Jean Emile!” is what I learned.  I got to use my French or rather my good Creole-bad French, which taught me a powerful lesson:  “Don’t be afraid of what people think of you! you’re imperfectness is perfect.”, I learned so much from you but the two most powerful lessons for me were 1, to love my country.  It was an inner battle throughout my whole life and admitting that I was Haitian was difficult for me, but your love of my little country made me proud to have been born in there.

One of the last times I saw you, it felt like there was no stopping you.  Out of the blue you reprimanded me for always being on the run.  A habit I have since I was born.  Never being able to stay long enough and enjoy what ever it is that life has to offer.  Making everyone around you nervous.  Yes Madou, I thank you for your criticism.  They were harsh words but well heard.  It was as if you knew that bit of wisdom you had to pass on for me to be able to truly enjoy this existence.    At times I felt I was an old man and you a young girl. I can be  rigid and set in my way.  An atribute learned from fear but I will always remember when you told me of yourself moving to Spain in the mid 70s and how you started a life on your own in a non welcoming environment.  That Madou will take me onto future adventures.   Due to your beauty, courage, curiosity and infinite wisdom I will attempt to be the person I was meant to be. .  I am sorry I cannot be here to celebrate your gorgeousness.  Yes, I was in a hurry to get back to NYC but, everyday I stop, I stop and I think of you and I smile.  I cry.  I am so grateful that you have become one of my angels.  Love and blessings

Life is sad!

DSC_7258Life is sad. I happened upon 6-8 big boxes of quality clothes and about a hundred pairs of shoes. Used but in l great quality.  These are all going to Haiti I thought. Bought moth balls, reboxed everything and wait for for the day the universe will give you the money to send them there.

Wait a minute. I need money.  Badly. 💎💡💡💡💰!!Buffalo Exchange. Today nov. 19, 2016. (5 degrees Celsius-41 Fahrenheit). I leave the house at 7 with two huge bags in the hopes of selling the contents at Buffalo…. first at queens location as my 9 am ballet class is there.   10:30–from Long Island city to Astoria after I decided I’d go to the Chelsea store as I had no luck but after having had my merchandise investigated twice and smelled I was told by both places ‘We only accept high end stuff from this year and the clothes smell of moth balls. We find that the smell carries”. WTF?  Ok by this time it is 1 in the afternoon. And it is as cold as a witch’s teat in a brass bra outside I decide then this is the universe telling me to donate the articles so I happened upon an older man sitting in a corner and taking a swig of something and shaking of the cold. He did look somewhat homeless due to the shopping cart of things he had with him and the 2 suitcases and carefully approached him with the thought of asking him if he needed a coat or something. ‘Get the f…. away from me’ honestly, I was taken aback and almost cried. I had to ask myself to stop and think.  Maybe I insulted him and he was not homeless but I did not even get to finish my question.  Maybe he was selfish and thought that I wanted a swig of what he was drinking…. I don’t know but having this happen often does not leave you feeling magnanimous.

💡!!! St. Francis of Assisi church. That would be the perfect place.  The sea of homeless sleeping in front of that church in the summer implies that they take care of the homeless. I walked into the rectory and climbed the stairs and and asked ‘where is the main office of the church?  I would like to donate these two heavy bags of clothing and shoes to the homeless!’ The man in front of me retorted ‘no.’  I looked at him with a look of confusion and asked:  ‘Señor, tienes una idea donde está La Oficina De la Iglesia.  Mi encantaría dejar estos artículos para la gente SDF’. I was given:  ‘Este no ce hacen aqui’. 

Can I have another WTF?  I called the cruch

“Be kind to everyone on the way up; you’ll meet the same people on the way down.“  

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Condescension  is a terrible thing.  People forget that they too were down and out at one point and were of a different state of mind as well.

Recently, a very good friend did something to me that I cannot for the life of me forgive.  It has gotten to the point of tearing up relationships between myself and those who were not even involved.  When I was at a time of dire need for shelter a dear friend, I might even call him family, turned around and sneakily took his keys out of my hand knowing that I was in need and couldn’t bear the thought of me staying in his house without him there as he was going away for a week to a little love tryst.  Unfortunately it was the week when everything decided to happen. It always falls like this.  Because of his deceit, I inadvertently miss my flight back to NYC, I sleep in the public saunas a few nights, there were a couple of more things which seem superfluous right now.  I only realized that he did what he did after the fact and since then he has pulled out the goo  goo eyes to try to apologize.
I am like my mother here.  How can I forgive someone who told me that he would always be by my side.  Actually when he first said that I laughed.  I thought how bogus!  How can I forgive someone the same day, hour, six months, what have you who has almost died three times in my arms and I felt then that it was my duty to let him know that he was not alone.
Our bond which I doubted since the get go was only strengthened by those trying times.  i felt like I was a part of a family.  A family of just the two of us but nevertheless a family.  Now in retrospect I see him for his true self.  A sweet and giving man, but a selfish pig.  I could not stay in his house because he was afraid that I would smoke his stuff or misplace his Ray Bans. I know that I have a lot to learn when it comes to boundaries but somehow, I never saw boundaries with this particular person.  We have exchange so much from love to fluids to money to peace of mind that what is mine is his and vice versa.  I am stupid to think that.  ‘We do not belong together’ the song says.  Although 17 years defies that. Now I am not only pissed off for the act of getting the keys taken from my person with a bold lie, keys I might add I had grown attached to seeing that I have had them for 17 years.  Now I see so many other instances of shame or selfishness.  17 years and I was never invited to Xmas with his family.  Some years I was just left alone.  it made Xmas what it is now.  Days which should not have happened. No disrespect meant to anyone’s birthday.
There is great enduring love in our relationship.  Love that will somehow help overcome this time of uneasiness but I tell you I may need 6 months to a year before I can consider him to be human again.  No one, absolutely NO ONE has the rights to dictate to me how I should feel and how unjust my reaction is.  My relationship with him is exactly that.  My relationship with him.  I compartmentalize that way.  It has gotten to the point that other relationships are made to suffer because of my reaction, or should i say because of his action.  Again, it is my lot in life to be always at odds with this person.  That is the nature of our relationship.
It obviously does not relate but I keep thinking of this quote:

Wilson Miznor, globe-trotter, ex-Alaska mining chappie, scenario writer, playwright and sage of Hollywood, gave the following advice to a young and coming motion picture star:

“Be kind to everyone on the way up; you’ll meet the same people on the way down.“

Bastard!

Bastard!

falling JE's sarabande in extracted vasewtmkLately I have had to think a lot about that word.  It being the repeated name I heard in my childhood.  i finally looked it up:
a person born of parents not married to each other.
synonyms: illegitimate child, child born out of wedlock; datedlove child,
Illegitimate:
not authorized by the law; not in accordance with accepted standards or rules.
synonyms: illegalunlawfulillicit, against the law, criminal, lawbreaking, actionablefelonious

So the secret’s out.  I have been denying it for a long time and here it is.  I am a bastard.  Illegitimate, felonious and actionable.

The illegitimate child of Antal Murat who I have seen I believe twice in my life and Gisele Emile.  A woman I have a lot of respect for and for the most  part is like me but……

“Short ode to being a person of color”

Oh how fun it is to get followed by the security guard every where you go. From the supermarket to the toilet. Oh what fun! Yes!! I am to be rejected over and over again while searching for an apartment because the first thing they see is your color, not your eyes. Such fun being of a darker hue. You will not allow me the simple things in life. Things I might add that you enjoy. You know superficial things like: the gait of entitlement or the smell of a cleaner neighborhood… But you will allow me to be your sexual amusement park because: ‘You’ve heard that….’ I regale in the choice of being a colored person. I did not make that choice but I am happy to embrace it with all its twists and turns. Oh and yes. Those nay Sayers who claim that I’m exaggerating, or ‘Stop putting the race card out!’ I ask you; ‘When was the last time your skin was of a chocolate hue and you did not acquire that from the sun bank?’

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